Houston, my muse.

Sometimes being a writer means learning to play the waiting game.
Now, I know some writers will say that it’s about discipline and that you have to train yourself to write under the pressure of a deadline. As a journalist at a newspaper, trust me, I get it. I’m constant under the 5 p.m. daily deadline.
But I also know that not everything I write is a jewel. Somedays it’s just slapping crap on a triscut and calling it caviar.

Thankfully, fiction writing isn’t like that. While I agree with writing experts who say write every day (totally needed) there is nothing better than when inspiration strikes.

That’s what happened this weekend. While I was home in Houston, inspiration for not one but TWO projects popped into my head.

One is for the conclusion of the short story on the murder mystery I’m working on. Remember? Wife and mistress team up to kill their guy? I figured out a nice twist and I’m considering submitting that one for publication. All that’s left is the same details, i.e. how to take a 250 pound body from a third floor apartment without people seeing. Hum. The devil is in the details, ain’t it?

Second idea popped into my head for a spec that I’m working on. I might not get it done for my July 1 deadline but I’ll get it done and ready for next year.

All this inspiration happened the first morning I woke up in Houston, in my mother’s house, in my sister’s old room. That’s my sweet spot. And one day, hopefully, I’ll be able to be in that sweet spot more often than once a month.

I heart Houston.

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